P'wal Usstan Uil Because I Am
by Thiaz Harbinger
Summary: In the land of Norrath nothing is as it seems, and seldom do appearances tell the whole story.


Chance Encounters  
  
The dark elf fell to the ground, planting her face into the muck and mire that had accumulated during the battle. The mud consisted of dirt, metal, flesh, and blood and it was slowly suffocating her. Her once pristine white mane was now hacked to pieces and missing chunks letting her dark, long, and slender ears stand straight up and away from her scalp.  
Her chest heaved, and her back arched as her body involuntarily gasped for air. Her arms too battle weary to lift her from the conflagration. She rolled to her side gasping for fresh air. The field stank of burnt flesh. Charred bodies lay strewn across the valley either blasted to ash with bones protruding from coagulated lumps of flesh, or unceremoniously deposited in macabre final moments of misunderstanding.  
This is war, this is what it means. Each body lying so grotesquely is that of a friend. Comrades who would neither laugh, cry, nor breathe again. They were gone, gone just like her sense of honor, duty, and heroism. The ideals that once held her together now burnt away, wind blasted, and torn from her beating heart.  
Summoning up her last strength, she stood and gathered her wits about her. Gathering up items as she went along, she slowly accomplished the daunting task of burying the remains of all that she knew and loved. Some could not be identified; mere elements of their once great armor were all that were left to remind her of who they had been, and what they had accomplished.  
The hours tolled on to days, and days to weeks before she had finished this last chore. Subsiding on weeds, and globs of snow water she finished her task as dusk settled on the horizon. Gathering her tattered cloak and clasping it about her neck, she scoffed at the remnants of her own armor. It shall never be worn again, left in this desolation to decay was all it was good for now.  
When she turned around, and left the battle field she never once thought about it again. Today was a new day she thought to herself. "Today is a day where I recreate myself." she said with a wicked smile on her face. Beneath the grit, and grime her teeth showed pearly white. As she trekked out into the wilderness, making her way down toward the stream she thought absently.  
"How long have I dreamed of something else, how long have I been asking myself what I can do different. I need something; I want to be someone different than the rest." She pondered out loud as she made her way down to the muddy stream shore. Looking into the reflection she saw herself for the first time in years. She was not some battle weary shadow knight anymore. She was that girl she remembered back when she roamed the Nektulos forest. Her search for adventure had led to this fate, but that does not mean her search for adventure meant constant hack and slash killing. She could read that type of adventure in any of the Neriak Novella's. No, she wanted a different kind of adventure. An adventure of the spirit, an adventure of the soul is what she craved above all else.  
"I need to find myself" she cried out into the air.  
"What you need to do dark one, is to stop yelling out into the forest lest someone come along and kill you so that he may enjoy the silence once more." The ranger said from the nook in the tree to her left.  
She jumped up from the ground, leaping to her left and reached for her sword. It will show this ranger pain, like he has never felt she thought. When her hand did not land on the pommel of her sword she realized she was in trouble. Twines reached up from the soil, and lashed her forcibly dragging her down to the ground. The ranger swung from the tree and landed lithely in front of her. She bucked, and twisted, desperately trying to free herself before he cut her throat.  
"Gentle, easy, I will not harm you." He said as he looked into her eyes. His face was warm, friendly, and smiling. It stood in contrast to her dark, antagonistic, and scowling demeanor.  
"What do you want?!" she snarled at him. She was uncertain how she knew it, but she knew deep down he meant no harm.  
He released her from the entwining vines, and pulled out some locally foraged fruits. Her mouth watered in expectation, and suddenly she felt her fingers twitching. She had not realized how hungry she was until presented with this bounty.  
"Careful" he said in a low tone, and she looked around as if some unseen adversary might be listening. "You don't want to eat too much, too fast, or you will regret it for days to come."  
She listened intently, taking his words as truth. Why would he lie to her about something like that? Her lean body showed her muscles flexing as she ate. Her body told her she was ravenous, but she ate sparingly. That night her stomach knotted up, but not terribly so.  
The stars glittered and sparkled in the night sky. She stared dreamily wondering when the last time she had marveled at the majesty of it all.  
"What do you think?" he asked as he prepared a bed roll on the ground. She looked quizzically at him, until she realized he was speaking of her looking into the night canopy.  
"How so?" she asked, sincerely wanting to make sure she answered his question. He pointed to the sky, and to stars.  
"Are they pinholes in a curtain of night, or heavenly bodies watching the play that is our realm?" He said with genuine interest. She thought for a long time, settling into her makeshift bed before she responded. The night creatures chirping and clicking in the night, steadily announced their attention to those knowledgeable enough to know the dialect.  
"I think they are places just like here, with people like you and me looking up into their night sky asking the same questions." He watched her eyes glisten in the night, her white eyebrows arching as she articulated her thoughts. He smiled gently as her brow furrowed when she completed her sentence.  
"What troubles you?" He asked gently. She paused, opened her mouth as she began to speak, and closed it as if she had decided against voicing her concern. He rolled over and closed his eyes not sure if she would continue.  
"Do you think" she said and paused. Or at least he had hoped she was pausing. His response was a simple grunt which prompted her ever so eloquently to finish. "Do you think that we are all alike somehow, all of us just trying to find our way, our hopes or dreams, and aspirations?"  
"No." he said flatly, which startled her. She had come to expect a bit more from him in the short time they had spent together. As if sensing she required more, he added. "Some have given up finding what makes them happy, and so they either rot, or take part in destroying that which they don't understand."  
She sat up from her resting place, and stared at him knowingly. It was a long time before she spoke again, and even though he pretended he was asleep and not waiting for her response he was. When she did speak again, it was in dark reflection, a realization that was sinking in that did not sit well with her. "I was a destroyer", she said in a hushed whisper. He sighed, knowing then she would not turn back form this road of self discovery.  
  
Waters Edge  
  
When she woke the next morning, the ranger had already packed camp. She looked at him uneasily wondering if the events from the previous night had isolated her emotionally and now physically from him. She was busy formulating a question to elicit a response when he stated they were going to be moving down stream for the day. Her question changed as it left her lips.  
"What is down stream from us?" she asked hesitantly. She watched him as he clasped his cloak about him. It hid his worn leather garments underneath and seems to make him instantly blend into the background. She squinted briefly to assure herself he hadn't vanished.  
He pulled back his cowl and looked at her intently, "not what, who." He said matter of fact and turned and headed south along some invisible path that only he could see. She followed as silently as she could, ostensibly trying to mirror his movements and style. She lacked the skills to accomplish the task and perhaps the very characteristics to achieve the goal. None the less she tried. He admired her quiet determination as he trailed in front of her. Not once did she curse out loud. He could smell the prey even from this distance.  
He had lost a couple days in meeting her. The woman had yet to bother to introduce herself. But then again in the realm a name was a piece of power, and it may be a long time before she feels comfortable enough for them to have an introduction. The smell of the prey was pungent in the air. This was not their normal hunting grounds, but then again these were not normal times.  
They tracked the tiger for half a day before they came upon its current lair. It was a small alcove in the rocky coastline, just enough to cover itself in the event of a downpour. It lay sleepy in the afternoon sun gorged on the local fowl, and other unsuspecting prey.  
The ranger watched intently, looking for any discerning marks. This creature did not belong; the why's and wherefores remained unknown. Yet the simple fact remained, this creature would destroy this habitat in a few years. With no natural predators it would dominate supreme, until it could no longer sustain itself, then it would move on. He turned away, and decided to make camp and contemplate his next action.  
"Why do you hunt this beast?" she asked that evening. He could see the real, almost child like concern in her facial features. She would save this creature if she could, and it was that very maternal, no humane aspect of this dark elf that inspired him to contemplate alternatives.  
He paused in his contemplations, and looked into the evening pin holes in the curtain of night. It was a long time before he answered, but she waited patiently. Witling on a piece of stick she had found. He admired the likeness of the tiger in the carving; she has a talent he thought to himself.  
"I hunt this beast because if I do not she will do irreparable damage." He said matter of fact.  
"I don't understand why you have chosen them over her?" she asked innocently. He knew then she had hit the nail on the head. Why does one choose to remove a predator from the natural order? What does give him the right to make that choice?  
"Under normal circumstances, I do not have to make these hard decisions. But since this creature does not belong here, she has to be removed. It is a simple fact, of which I don't know if I can explain to you how bad it can affect this entire area if she remains here unchallenged." He knew as soon as he had said these words, these oh so hollow words she would not understand. He was trying to explain something that was innately understood by himself and all of his order. There is a balance in nature, and the sentient species are responsible for maintaining that order. Some embrace it as have his and other races, and some fly in its face.  
Regardless of the discussion though, that tiger will have to die. If it does not, it will first kill the fowl, and slow moving creatures like the rabbits. When the insects no longer have natural predators they will devastate more crops, and then that will lead to famine on mass proportions for this region. It was a simple fact, if the creature remains here, it will destroy everything ultimately. It is a precarious balance we have on this world.  
He rolled over on the ground and propped his head on his elbow. He knew she didn't like the decision, but then he didn't expect her to understand either, so there was no need to judge harshly.  
"I will wake you in the morning after it has been done." He said warmly, hoping she understood he was only trying to help. She only grumbled and he could tell from her breathing she would not be sleeping anytime soon. That was good he thought, since that would mean she would sleep in late tomorrow.  
Much later she was tossing and turning in her sleep. Her inner demons replayed the horrors. Images of that final battle flickered across her eyes. The bright red splashes, the grunts, the bashing of metal against metal. The grit that got into her eyes, the feel of the spewed innards draining from her hair. Her long white hair matted down and poked her in her eyes, making her cry.  
No she knew that was not why she was crying. She was crying because they were loosing. Each loss meant a comrade she had known for years would walk no more. She knew she was in a dream. She could feel it, but the dream felt so real. "Must wake up!" she said to herself. Straining her neck she tried to turn over. To wake from this horror that had captured her heart. She couldn't breath, it was all suffocating her. She felt her teeth grinding into themselves. Surely they would break soon, and that pain alone would wake her up. Then suddenly her eyes popped open, and she heard her ragged breathing. Her skin was covered in sweat, and she felt incredible dirty.  
She arose from her sleeping spot, and looked into the twilight of the morning sky. The moon showed brightly as if she could reach out and grab it. She suddenly felt the need to wash off, and gathered her gear and walked down to the stream. Mumbling to herself she stripped and waded into the stream, letting the luxurious cool water take away all the bad feelings. She dunked her head, and rattled it around. Let the cold water revitalize her body and soul. She rinsed away the crime, and let herself believe again that good things can happen to those who try.  
"I will be better" she said to herself. Affirming her thoughts, knowing she must learn something or die trying. "Yes" she said as she breached the waters surface coming up for air, and was suddenly startled to see a feline silhouette down stream.  
She watched intently as the tiger fished in the shallow waters just down stream. Its paws struck with lightening quick reflexes and pulled up a large fish. It laid and began its feeding immediately. She floated down stream angling to the opposite shore the tiger laid on. Extracting herself from the water as quietly as possible she stared intently at this magnificent beast.  
When the idea occurred to her, she almost laughed aloud. "Why not try something different" she thought to herself. "If I am to be better, I should try something better". She stood up then, completely naked in both mind and body and approached her destiny as a child.  
The early morning sunlight glittered off her dark skin. Her hair glistened and sparkled conforming to her head and down the back of her neck. She no longer had a god, not since she had decided that hate could no longer sustain her inner fire, but she prayed none the less. Not for herself mind you, no she prayed for the beast. "Let this animal know I am a friend" she prayed. "Let her know I am a friend and will protect her till the day I die."  
The ranger watched in amazement as this woman he barely knew approached a creature she knew nothing about with nothing but a prayer. He did not know what had possessed her to do such a wild act, but he stood ready to act if things went bad. Not knowing what she would do, or how she would do it, she approached the beast. When she saw that it had become aware of her presence she stopped. She watched as it bared its teeth and arched its hair on its back. Its tail flicked back and forth and it crouched. She knelt and stretched her arms out in welcoming, the water lapping at her thighs.  
The ranger watched as the tiger approached her, its mane suddenly returning to normal, it tail no longer flickering about defensively. It approached none the less with caution, rubbing up beside her. He watched as she let it circle about her, letting it walk underneath her arms. Then it happened, that moment when things change forever.  
The tiger reached out a playful arm and swatted her, knocking her into the water head first. She returned up with her face splattered with sand and water. The ranger turned to go back to the camp as the two frolicked in the water. Today was a good day he decided, one where he had learned something. There is more than one path through the wilderness.  
  
Less Traveled  
  
The ranger sat idly in camp while he heard the shouts of glee from the stream not to far away. It had been over an hour since he had them those two to there own devices, and he wondered if they planned on stopping anytime soon. Granted he had nowhere in particular to go. Most of his life had been spent outside of the dwellings of normal people. He had left the city of Kelethin early in life, preferring to roam free, with no boundaries, no expectations, and the thrill of adventure around the corner.  
  
Those had been his youthful days, reckless and dangerous. He knew better now and that was for the best. It's not that he doesn't accept the challenges that life brings, it's more like he picks and chooses the appropriate ones to accept. Like this shadow knight, if his people knew now what he was doing, he would be killed outright. No dark elf, especially one manipulating the necromantic energies would have been allowed to live in their realm. But he has seen more of the world, realized that you cannot categorize and entire race with one characteristic. Dark elves are not evil, and the world would not be a better place without them. There is a natural order in this realm and they are as much a part of it as the high elves or any other race.  
The ranger snorted out loud in disgust as he thought about the different cities he had been forced to enter during his travels. Thank god for small wonders, that here on this continent they are few and far between. This trek had been a godsend, one in which he thought it better that remain as inconspicuous as possible.  
"Why do I consort with her?" he scoffed at himself. The duplicitous ness of his nature made him yearn to stay out of trouble and to test the boundaries of society. He knew she did not trust him, but there was nothing he could do about that. Only time, would build that bridge.  
He heard her talking long before she entered camp. Turning to watch her come up the path he watches as she turned back and faced the large feline and stated. "You are more than welcome to continue on with us, although I don't really know the destination of our travels."  
The ranger stood, and looked at the shadow knight in surprise; surely she could not be communicating with this great cat. Her kind get undead pets, a familiar is not one of their traits at least to his knowledge. He stopped in his tracks both physically and mentally. He had just caught himself blatantly diminishing this woman's capabilities.  
"Don't act all shocked ranger, I know you were watching us this morning." She said with whimsical look on her face. She had smiled; he did a double take to look at those teeth. He realized then she was happier, and had a certain bounce to her step.  
"I, I am sorry, I meant no intrusion, but how did you know." He stammered out feeling suddenly excited. What was wrong with him, he wondered. Thinking possibly the feline was casting some spell up him, but he quickly detected no magic about him.  
"She told me so" the shadow knight smirked back at him, as his face squinted up in dismay. He looked to the cat and as if on queue the great beast turned and looked at him and yawned, or was that a smile he wondered to himself.  
Turning away from them both he gathered his possessions up and made busy. He knew then he was in trouble. These two were going to be his death; he smiled as he thought about it. But what and adventure it would be. Ten minutes later when he walked away from the camp, they were ably following him. He thought for a long time to come, barely even considering their path. Yes the ruins would be a good place to start their adventures.  
  
True Challenges  
  
His step was livelier that day than the previous she noted. She grinned with excitement, because she knew there must be something he was heading towards. He bounded through the land as if bent on a mission.  
"I have never felt this way before" she thought to herself. How could this be? In the past she had fought many battles, but this seemed different. Things were different. She was not the same as she was the day before. She looked down at her hands momentarily, pausing as the ranger easily leaped a fallen log and disappeared into the gulley of a ravine. They looked the same; she noted the many battle scars and the poorly managed nails packed with dirt under them.  
Her heart raced, and not just from running along. Starting again, she scanned the foliage for signs of his passage. There were next to none, but she noted the slight discoloration in the moss from where his feet had landed. The earth darker in some spots denoting he had turned the ground just slightly in his passing. She followed along his path doubling her original pace until she saw him again not to far ahead between the trees. As usual so hard to note his presence, he blended in so well.  
However her other new friend was nowhere to be seen. She knew if the cat wanted to follow it would. They had talked at length about the need to continue to move about this great plain. That if she stayed in one place for too long what damage could be done. It had amazed her how quickly they had grown attached. It had startled her at first when she felt the cat's words in her mind, but within minutes it was as natural as the sun and the moon.  
"Yes" she said to herself as she raced to catch the lone ranger in the distance. This was defiantly different. This was something good, it felt right. She winked as she leapt by the ranger, darting in and out of the trees together. Like birds they followed a path together intuitively, branching and turning together in unison.  
That night they camped out in the open. Basking in the starlit moon they talked at length about there families, lovers, friends and ultimately what had brought them together this day.  
"I guess what most concerns me these days is my ability to learn and grow", she stated enthusiastically. The ranger nodded in ascension knowing she hadn't finished her statement.  
"Ultimately I would like to achieve something more, more than the glory of my people. I think I can do better than that I guess. We are so mired in our hatred of the pale face races that it clouds our minds. They teach us that in order for us to prosper you all must be wiped from the face of Norrath. But I just don't see how that can be. Wouldn't true prosperity come from our mutual enrichment", she stared into the night sky tracing the invisible lines for the pantheon of gods.  
He watched as her pain wracked face spoke the words knowing something deeper troubled her. Wishing he could discern the true nature of her anguish he listened on. "What was it she really wanted to say?" he asked himself. And "why does she not speak it out loud" he mused. Had he spent more time in towns and cities maybe he would understand more of the interactions of peoples. But as is, he knew next to nothing of what people really thought for he spent most of his time alone.  
In fact he wasn't even sure why he had helped this dark elf in the first place. What possessed him to not simply put this creature out of its misery was beyond him. Of course that goes against his internal code of ethics, but it is widely not considered murder if you kill one of the dark ones. After all they do plot the total annihilation of the other races of Norrath.  
She stopped talking and turned to look at her friend to see if she could discern what he was thinking. She was always wondering what he was thinking she mused to herself. But that only illustrated how much she had come to depend upon his presence. Never before had she so relied on what someone else thought. It was as if they were merging into a single expression, "but how could that be?" she asked herself silently.  
When she saw that he was lost in his own thoughts she pouted, knowing that what she was saying obviously wasn't important enough for him to be listening to her. It infuriated her immensely and she thought about lashing out. But the thought of hurting this man who had so befriended her, pained her more than she could bear. No she knew then and there she would never willing cause harm to him. But it was obvious he did not feel the same way about her as she felt about him.  
The ranger looked at the range of emotions racing across her face as she looked into the night sky. He could see the tears welling in her eyes and knew it would be best not to press the point of timing and the gradual matriculation of understanding between the races. "I know this will all come to pass, and one day we will live in peace and prosperity."  
She turned and smiled at him, winking in understanding. She asked, "One day at a time my friend, no?" She looked to him for guidance in this troubling time in her mind. Knowing that he was taking this journey with her, a trail into an unknown path where one person could make a difference.  
"I think each of us makes an impact on the world around us, and if all's it takes is one person to stand and say 'I have had enough' then others will follow suit." He looked into the night sky following her gaze into the night. She was staring intently at the nine star constellation of Innoruuk. He could see the contempt on her face, and prayed silently that this hatred did not burn her up.  
He heard her sigh, and turned to see her slump her head down in personal anguish. He reached out a hand to console her, but thought better of it and said, "my friend, all is well. This pain you feel is your mind struggling to grasp what your heart tells you to be true." When she didn't respond he turned away and began to make preparations for sleeping.  
She watched as he laid out his blankets for the night and struggled with the emotions that ran through her mind. She almost reached out to draw him near, but her mind prevented her muscles from moving. Her heart he says, what he knows of her heart is little. What her heart wills is for her to run into his arms and seek solace from this pain. But she knows better than her heart. He does not return her affections and so she will remain alone.  
The great cat watched the two from a distance. It had patrolled for hours insuring their safety before settling down for the night. She watched as the two played out their emotions for all to see. She sighed disappointedly when neither made their true hearts known. A low grumble escaped from the cats' maw, and then she settled in for a comfortable nights sleep.  
She tossed and turned in her sleep. The torment of her played splayed on her face with grimaces, scowls and mumblings. She rolled from one side to another, only illustrating her dilemma more so to any observant enough to watch. But no one was watching. Just as her dreams played out in her mind she was alone in body as well as mind. This night she fought no flesh and blood adversary, but one within. The lines had been drawn within her, and her heart and mind were now battling it out for supremacy. Her forehead sweated with exertion. Her body played out the drama in physical expression the internal strife of her mind.  
Mist swirled around her, she knew she was in a dream but she was drawn inextricably further into the trap. Her father stood in his shop arranging items for sale. She screamed in her mind, this turning point, had she had the strength then it could have said hundreds of lives.  
"How could you father?!" she exclaimed. He turned to her, and frowned.  
"I did what is best for you and our family, now do not question me again" he spit his words out like venom from a snake. She looked into his eyes; she could see the love but did not understand his actions. How could he enroll her into a school that he knew would take her away from home, family and friends? She glared at him, willing him to speak, but he only stood there, ignoring her. She didn't understand, and doubted she ever would.  
She opened the door to the shop and was half out of the shop before she turned back. "Because I am" she started but never finished. He father looked up at her that moment and raised a hand for her silence. As she remembered the events and played them out again she knew she had left at that moment and had never seen her father, mother or her brother again. But it played out differently this time; she continued to stand in the door screaming at the top of her lungs.  
"Because I am" she yelled over and over, trying vainly to get her father to lower that hand of silence. He didn't, but she kept screaming.  
The ranger awoke to her screaming, "P'wal Usstan Uil, P'wal Usstan Uil!, P'wal Usstan Uil!" He rolled over and gently shook her. When that did not work, he shook her more brusquely until she woke. He eyes were tearing and he could tell she had been frightened in her sleep.  
"You were having a nightmare, are you ok?" he asked. Her face still feral she responded in her native tongue.  
"Ussta zha'linth mrigg ussa" she said looking deeply into his eyes.  
"I don't understand"  
"Ussta zha'linth mrigg ussa" she said more irritated.  
"Speak common, I still don't understand you"  
"Oh I am sorry lover, I said 'my memory guides me', my dreams are of the past" she said and promptly rolled over and fell back asleep.  
He watched her snuggle back into a comfortable rhythm of sleep. His jaw still proverbially dropped to the floor as he took in what she had said. What did she mean by lover, did she already consider them to be lovers? He didn't even know her name yet.  
"How did this make him feel?" he asked himself silently. He knew then he wouldn't sleep for the rest of the night. Not until he knew where he stood on this. But where he stood, how did he feel, and what was he going to do if he did not return these feelings.  
He didn't fall asleep that night until the dawning of the sun waxed away the moons from the night sky. It would be a late start tomorrow but so much had changed and this coming day could very well change the very nature of their friendship.  
  
Supplies  
  
The next day they spent getting close to a town. They reached it midday and camped on the outskirts away from the normal travel of its inhabitants. If they were to go adventuring they were going to need supplies. The ranger grinned with apprehension. He normally shied away from towns and cities, but this was imperative for their success. He had known about these ruins for about a year and had tried in vane to wipe it out on several occasions himself. The task was not an easy one. Not only did one have to deal with the undead but there were also mechanical devices that seemed to have a mind of their own. It was crucial for them to observe what the personality of the outpost was like before entering.  
After careful observation they had determined that several dark elves had entered, but usually obscured by a large cloak with a deep cowl to prevent people from seeing their faces unless they looked directly at them. That night they decided to enter in the morning before the dawn had risen to chase the mood away. They watched as the guards locked the fortifying gates as the evening sky became dark.  
They were quiet in the morning, barely speaking to one another. The assorted grunts of ascension and dissention marked the normal discourse. He couldn't tell if she didn't want to speak because she was lost in thought about her dreams, or if it was avoidance of what had happened afterwards. He decided to let it go for now, even though he desperately wanted to talk about it.  
Despite his best intentions to figure out where he stood in this morass of a moral dilemma he had found no answers in last nights sky. Instead he stood here with her next to him in camp stealing glances and avoiding eye contact. He quietly and intently organized his knapsack glancing occasionally at her.  
Despite his best intentions to figure out where he stood in this morass of a moral dilemma he had found no answers in last nights sky. Instead he stood here with her next to him in camp stealing glances and avoiding eye contact. He quietly and intently organized his knapsack glancing occasionally at her.  
Her beautiful Ivory hair cascaded down her shoulders stood in dark contrast to her ebony skin. Her features so light and airy, so much like his yet a world apart. Her hands so slim and firm as they picked up various items from the ground. They belied the power and prowess she had in her frame. When she stood tall, she was only a fraction on an inch shorter than he. Her ears are beautiful he noted to himself as she bent over to pick up a blanket. So long they pointed up thru her hair just enough to hint they were there. But there had been other times when she had pulled her hair back, the ranger shook his head mentally and physically and went back to his morning chores. There was no possible romance between a dark elf and a wood elf. They are too different in all manners to possibly connect.  
She watched his torment splay across his face and knew that she was the cause. Why had she called him "mrann d'ssinss" or "lover" in common language? She'd woken up, and was fully alert and had conscientiously made the decision to make that step. Could it be that she so deeply wanted to be loved to be cared about that she would even seek it in this wood elf? No there had to be something more, something that drove her to feel this way. She had never been here before and parts of it scared her tremendously.  
She watched idly as he finished gathering his items. His short cropped brown hair with sun bleached highlights revealed his distinctively masculine features. Despite the years of hardship of living on the land he had not become bitter. In fact that was what drew her most to him, his inner sense of tranquility. He exuded a since of calm, that shimmered just below his muscular frame. His deep brown eyes looked back into hers and she smiled instinctively. She knew immediately regardless of what happens she had made the right decision. She just prayed that it turned out for the best.  
When he smiled back at her he knew they had caught each others admirations. He chuckled little to himself and knew what road he was traveling down. In the end it didn't scare him as much as he thought it would. But that did not mean they didn't have trials and tribulations to overcome. But he knew in his true heart that he had found a lover.  
As they got closer to the gate he saw her shivering despite herself. He reached out and ever so gently brushed his hand against hers. The tips of his fingers brushing against hers, she responded immediately but walking her fingers into his and lacing them tightly together. They walked together into the town, side by side. From a distance the great cat watched as they entered. Its maw smiled, then its fur shimmered lightly as it transformed from a great cat into the slim figure of a woman wearing peasant clothes. She walked confidently with her head held high as she entered. She watched intently as the two strolled together through the streets of Firiona Vie.  
The hustle and bustle of the town was staggering. This was more than the dark elf nation had attributed to this outpost of the high elves. When they had waited patiently out front observing the comings and goings of its citizens they had not ascertained this was the famed high elf strong hold Firiona Vie.  
As they entered she saw the name etched on many plaques followed by denotations of shop type like Baker, Smith, and Inn. She immediately knew she was beyond her depth. But at that exact moment something wonderful and strange happened.  
She felt his hand brush against hers and her heart raced at a break neck pace. She had not realized how much she longed for his touch. Was it an accident? Had he meant to touch her? She didn't know, and the aching question panged her soul. When his fingers lightly touched her hand again she intuitively intertwined her fingers with his.  
Her mind raced with excitement. Never before had she felt this way about anyone and here he was finally standing beside her. She gripped his hand ever so tightly, her fingers feeling the rough texture of his. The leather of his fingerless gloves creaked, and she suddenly realized her heart was pounding in her chest hard enough to burst forth in declaration of her love.  
Her face flushed, and the pain she had felt a mere minute ago was gone. Now she was imbued with invincible. She walked confidently abreast her lover, knowing no matter the fates in store for them she had all she needed for her happiness beside her.  
The ranger made his way directly to a store containing general supplies. She could see his agitation, as he walked towards the store. She drew him closer clasping her other hand at the top of his arm whose hand held hers. As they entered into the store the broke apart and she suddenly felt a pang of separation.  
Shaking her head she broke herself out of her reverie in order to deal with matters at hand. Looking around the store she identified items of use for their adventure. The ranger was grabbing rope, bandages, and the like and placing them on the counter of the store. She did then same just as the store keeper came from the back room.  
"Greetings and salutations weary travelers", he called out briskly. He looked to them, and seemingly tallying their purchases and them at the same time. He was a rather rotund human with fiery red hair, and green eyes that held infinite laughter in them. She smiled despite herself, but immediately turned away lest he guess the nature of her being.  
The shop keeper watched as they gathered various supplies, realizing by the nature of it they were adventurers, and obviously good ones at that. They didn't have fancy gear which meant they weren't mercenaries, and certainly weren't wealthy since what they did have was well worn. No these were adventurers of the best kind, wonderings souls too wild for the likes of a large city and probably even this small out post. But obviously kind of heart, he could tell this simply by the way they moved and interacted with each.  
When the female of the two leaned down to pick up some iron rations he saw a lock of ivory hair fall down from out of her cowl. An ebony hand darted out and returned it safely to its concealment. The shop keeper smiled and pretended he did not notice. What a strange couple these two were, his wife would not believe him when he will tell her about today's purchases that is for certain, he thought to himself.  
When they were done, only the male came to the counter to pay for their supplies. The shop keeper smiled again and looked intently into the rangers face. He was tempted to ask numerous questions, but refrained. At the last minute though he decided this was an opportunity of a life time.  
"Don't be shy little one come on up here", he surprised himself even as the words escaped his mouth. Had he invited disaster to his family by making this gesture, he asked himself. But in the end he decided no, this was a good thing. These two are worth knowing and ultimately a good thing. When he saw her bulk at moving, he turned back to the ranger, and smiled again.  
"It's a dangerous world out there" the shop keeper said.  
The ranger stepped back slightly and put his hand on his sword. "Indeed it is" the ranger said eyeing the shop keeper apprehensively.  
"No that's not what I mean friend" the shop keeper's heart raced. What was he doing, he asked himself. His wife always told him to keep to himself and this is why. He chuckled out loud at his inner dialog.  
"I meant it's dangerous for two of your kind to be adventuring, when one does not have a weapon." He motioned to the female and her lack of weaponry.  
The shop keeper smiled and seemed an eternity past before any action was taken. It was the female who first moved forward. Her hands quietly and confidently reached up and removed the cowl covering her head and face. She smiled, and he knew instantly he had made a good decision.  
"That is more like it, let us not do business without knowing each other", he said while cheerfully loading their purchases into bags.  
The ranger scoffed and frowned momentarily but then acquiesced. He looked about nervously glancing several times towards the front door.  
"You said something about weapons", he asked making small talk as he evaluated the situation.  
"Yes indeed I did. If you are shopping, I will send you to my brother. He is a merchant and gets the finest weaponry in all the land, or so he says" the shop keeper chuckled at his own joke.  
She looked back to the ranger, her eyes telling all. He nodded back, and the burly keeper clapped his hands in joy. At once he became a flurry of motion racing about looking for something, anything to write on.  
"Now where did I leave that scratch paper" he mumbled to himself as he searched frantically. He exclaimed out loud when he found it behind the till that contained his monies. He had intended a long time ago to keep track of sales, but it always ended up being so much easier to keep track of it all in his head. He wrote a quick note to his brother, and signed it in a scrawl that looked to spell Jaska.  
"Take this to my brother Brosha", he said as he walked with them towards the front door. Once outside he pointed in the direction of his brothers store and gave detailed instructions for getting their. With their backpacks full of rations and supplies they made their way to acquire proper fighting instruments.  
As they walked down the street they found themselves once again reaching out to one another physically, and emotionally. They walked hand in hand confidently towards their destination.  
"What type of adventure do you think we will find in this ruins you speak of?" She asked as they made their way. She looked intently at him and watched his thoughts race across his face. His profile illuminated in the early dawn glow of the sun. His smooth skin a chestnut brown stood in stark contrast to her dark complexion. She heard the words as they came out his mouth, but she found she wasn't concentrating on them, or their meaning. Instead his lips held her fascination, beguiled her into yearning.  
He is truly a sight, and for so long she had held back. Not even giving him her name, and out of respect he had done the same so as not to shame her. She watched intently as his lips turned more towards her, and realized they were no longer walking. She shook herself internally and snapped back into focus.  
"Are you even paying attention to a word I say?" He chuckled out loud. Not knowing where she had been for the last few minutes. He looked into her eyes and saw the intensity of feeling their and knew something was amiss.  
"You have saved me in more ways than one", she blurted out then collected herself before she continued.  
"I see now there is another world out here, beyond the hatred of Innoruuk. I finally see what the other races have been enjoying, and I so wish to be a part of that friendship, companionship, and sense of true purpose."  
"I am glad to be of service" he winked at her and she smiled back.  
"You mock me, but that is alright my intent has not changed. My name is Sasha, and was till recently Olath D'Aron in common speech a dark or shadow knight of the Indigo Dragoons. I know not if I have the ability to summon my innate skills, nor do I care for this is the true me here standing before you. I am a soul, in search of meaning. I found my inner peace once I turned from the path of destruction and I am proud to call you my friend on this road to salvation and retribution."  
The ranger waited calmly till he was assured she had no more to say. He reached out and shook her arm as comrades do before entering battle, or when they greet each other after long absences. It was a token of affection and endearment held amongst people who have a common goal.  
"I am Banor, one of Tunare's chosen. I have always felt this inner beacon which has called me to the farthest reaches of the known realm. I feel more alive now than I have in years, and I know it is because of you. I had lost sight but you have brought it back into clarity. It is my honor to stand next to you.  
They stood for a moment staring deeply into each others eyes. Simultaneously they leaned into each other, when suddenly a boisterous voice from behind them piped up.  
"And I am Brosha of Firiona Vie procurer of the finest weaponry in Norrath, now kindly move along so that paying customers may enter my shop!" When they turned around Banor and Sasha's faces were both flushed. Their rosy cheeks gave away their embarrassment. However this did not detract from Brosha's shock as he saw Sasha's race for the first time. But he stopped himself from panicking; he recalled the words of two lovers professing their innermost feelings and smiled inwardly and outwardly.  
"Pardon my short comings" he blurted out, and turned to leave.  
"Wait good sir", Sasha called out to him.  
When he turned back around Banor handed him the note from his brother. "It's a note from your brother whom we just met."  
"Well why didn't you say so" the equally rotund brother said and opened his shop door motioning for them to enter.  
  
Wayfarers  
  
Time had passed quickly since they had left town. Making their way to the ruins had been a painless venture. But once they were there, they had found the task of assaulting the stronghold strenuous. It had been a week since their time in Firiona Vie and since then they had killed innumerous undead.  
Sasha felt exhausted and the fatigue was beginning to get to her. They sat in their camp huddled next to the fire. The southwest wind brought the cold air from the mountains down on them like retribution. They were convinced that some dark necromantic power fueled these infernal waling dead. She thought to herself yet spoke a loud unknowingly, "this confounded body of mine refuses to accept my commands, and fatigue may be the death of us like many good soldiers before."  
Banor stared idly at the pile of treasure they had collected from the undead. Despite having no worldly concerns they were fairly well to do. Easily they had collected several hundred platinum pieces, not to mention the crafted items. They would fetch a good price at the open market. That however was tainted by knowing it had come from unwitting travelers beset by sometimes hordes of undead as they traveled along the trade route.  
He didn't respond verbally, but merely straightened her ivory locks of hair and brushed them as gently as possible. She curled up into his lap and watched the flickering lights of the camp fire. The embers burned intensely as she idly poked it from time to time until falling asleep in her lover's arms.  
When they awoke the next day they felt rested. Despite the aches and pains of continuous battle they leapt about preparing to break camp. Banor could tell by the hop in her step she had a plan. It probably wasn't fully formulated, and that is why she wasn't sharing it yet. But once done, she would spell out her elaborate strategy. He shook his head and chuckled briefly. If nothing else, she always had new ideas on how to solve any issue. Unlike most people who didn't succeed after a few tries and quit, that merely made her more adamant to find a solution. It was this stubbornness he admired.  
"Well it was one of her many features I admire", he thought to himself as he watched her bend over and pack her sleeping role in her backpack.  
Once the camp was broke they set about her plan. He wasn't quite certain it would be successful, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. Despite the earlier disappointments of drawing out the power source for these walking dead it had fallen upon them to try and try again. Banor shook his head, partially disgusted with himself. He had tried many times to clear these ruins out himself, but not with the grim determination, and absolute resolve Sasha has.  
Her display of tenacity was inspiring. Banor mused, if all her people were like this then maybe one day they would take control of all the lands of Norrath. But no, he knew she was indeed a jewel in the rough. She was a unique soul brought to him beyond odds. When he thought about the destruction she had survived at the hands of the Dragon hordes the claws of veeshan. He knew she had been blessed. He shook his head to remove the images from his mind. The mass of graves she had dug had to of been in the hundreds. She had honored each one, and no shallow graves marked that country landscape.  
Banor scoffed at his self for letting his revelry get the better of him. His quiet determination had on more than one occasion gotten him through insurmountable odds. But it wasn't until recently that he started to dream again about the possibilities. He owed that to Sasha and he knew it. Without her, he would have continued to roam the lands, lost in his own quest for redemption.  
It wasn't that he had done something wrong, it was just that somehow somewhere he had lost his way and no longer heard Tunare's words. For a long time, he had quested vigorously to hear her voice again. But to no avail, he simply did not see her works in the world anymore. That was what most disappointed him that he had stopped actively searching for Tunare's wisdom in the world.  
He was sad; he acknowledged that much to his self. He was sad because he had let himself down. He was sad because he knew someone else who had pushed through greater adversity than he had. He was sad because he wished he had been a better elf, especially now that he was no longer afraid to love.  
Yes he was ready to admit to himself that he was in love with her. At first he didn't want to be in love with her. But she had inspired him, and in the end his heart won out over his insecurities. He had decided to let go of his inhabitations. To not worry over what had happened previously, he was a new elf. He was who he created himself to be today. Each day was a new opportunity to learn the wisdom of Tunare. He had come to the conclusion that she like Sasha did not care for the past. It was this very moment that she lived for, the spring from present to the future, living in that very moment.  
  
Inadvertent Danger  
  
So when he saw Sasha leaping about the camp he realized, he could not possibly be any closer to his god than now. That realization, that positive affirmation that life in all it's glory is nothing more than the thrill of adventure in a lover's eye. This would be a pearl of wisdom he would teach their child one day.  
Sasha limped out of the forest onto the trail, and fell from utter exhaustion. Her wounds were severe, unable to move on she wailed in desperation. Looking behind her she searched desperately for some unseen foe. The foe which had made her leg lame, the foe that had spilt her blood.  
Crawling up the side of the trail she turned and propped herself against the shelf of dirt and rocks. Clearly she would make it no further. She was weaponless, defenseless and beat. The cackling first began far in the distance. A banshee's voice carried on the winds from the north. As the howling drew closer it surrounded her more completely. Glowing orbs watched thru the afternoon mist as Sasha frantically scrambled to rise.  
The cackling rose to a high pitched frenzy that could drive most insane, running aimlessly to their death. Sasha screamed at the undead, yelling curses and pleading for mercy. They only laughed all the more, egged on. With their bleached bone white arms outstretched and within several feet of their prey they clanged and banged against each other as they wobbled inevitably closer.  
When they were within clawing range Sasha's facial expression suddenly changed. She grinned widely, and sprung from the ground leaping high into the air above the undead, landing lithely far away from the center of the score or more undead. As they turned around and glared threateningly at her she burst into laughter.  
When the log swung down from out of the tree tops the undead never saw it careening towards them. It smashed thru them like a battering ram through a weakened fort gate. With half their force decimated, they were no longer laughing. They howled at her collectively, scrambling to get to her through the blinding rage.  
Sasha waited till they were almost upon her then screamed, "Now!" She fell to her stomach just as another descending log whisked over top of her.  
Moments later she inspected the damage. Sasha toweled off the red berry juice which had sufficed as her ruse of immanent demise. Dirt had made it cake but she removed it relatively easily. Banor watched her intently. He watched as she smiled at herself. She was obviously pleased that her plan had achieved its desired goal. He smiled as she chuckled and shook her head in satisfaction.  
"Well that should give them pause, shouldn't it" she exclaimed as she looked around at the scattered bones everywhere.  
"Indeed" he said equally enjoying their victory.  
"I'm starving, what's for dinner?" she asked matter of fact.  
"Reduced to carrying out your plans, and cooking am I?" he asked sarcastically. This was one of their running jokes, which provided him with ample material to poke fun at his companion. She smirked, ran her fingers through her hair and then pulling back into a tight pony tail. She pretended to ignore him, and walked away. But he could tell by her saunter that she was paying him way more attention than she wanted to let on. He laughed and ran after her.  
They teased each other incessantly as they scouted for a place to camp that night. Poking, tickling, and picking on each other as they walked along the trail. It was getting close to sunset when they found a spot. The thick mist nearly prevented them from seeing the nestled cove. They set up camp quickly, and Banor set about making his stew which much to Sasha's professing of hatred, always ate every last drop; and eyed his remaining portion hungrily till he acquiesced and relinquished his bowl to her control. They settled in for the night, huddling close to each other for warmth and comfort. The great cat watched from afar, its muzzle curled up into an obvious smile.  
When daylight broke the morning haze, it was with a sense of great accomplishment they rose and faced the rising star. It was a good day, a day in which surely the goddess Tunare smiled down on the two of them. With a renewed purpose, they gathered their gear and looked at each other with quiet understanding. They had achieved their goal. The ruins were no longer a festering hole of undead. It was once again safe to travel along the trail to Firiona Vie. It wasn't so much that Sasha knew terribly much about that significance as it was that she felt she had given back something to the world in exchange for her existence. A sense of equilibrium about the world as she knew it gave her more warmth than anything she had ever experienced before.  
When Banor saw the continued smile upon Sasha's face he knew he had a jewel. Her radiance made all his earlier deliberations wash away. How could he have ever doubted her? Clearly she was true to her course. Those original musings she had cast out into the wide world was had become her motto for living and indeed she lived and breathed by it every day. The beauty he saw today was not some rose blooming under the care of the good races, but rather a rare find that had been unearthed in all the rubble and decay in the dread lands.  
They made eye contact, and moved closer in towards one another. As they embraced each in turn whispered into the others ear.  
"I love you."  
They laughed at each other, and Sasha quipped.  
"Jinx you owe me a pint of ale", she winked and turned away and picked up her roll.  
Banor raised an eyebrow, his altruistic demeanor coming though. "I'll not contribute to your delinquency young lady."  
"I am not a lady old man, and I am never delinquent" she chuckled as she bounced back. Sasha splayed her arms around him and Banor bent slightly with her weight.  
"I'll not drink many I swear, but let's go celebrate" she pleaded into his ear.  
Shaking his head Banor motioned for her to lead the way. "How can I argue with one as beautiful as you?"  
Sasha feigned as if to fall to the ground from his compliment. Her facial expression changed immediately from a smile to a frown. Banor not seeing what she was looking at looked nervously about.  
"What do you see?" he asked in his serious voice. That hushed whisper that only the two of them within a foot radius could hear. Sasha motioned to their right; he had missed it the first time so cleverly hidden. Inside a small knoll covered by thick bushes with dark branches and red berries lay a stone entrance leading into the side of the hill.  
She approached cautiously, Banor following lightly behind her his bow drawn and arrow knocked. They looked for any indication the doorway may be booby trapped. Neither of their skilled in the arts of the rogue they relied on their wits. Searching for signs of explosions, or a carcass or two at the foot of the entrance to denote some unseen trigger they walked gingerly towards the entrance.  
A cool wind breathed out of the entrance and lightly lifted Sasha's bangs from her face.  
  
Lair of the Necromancer  
  
"It is deep" she murmured over her shoulder barely audible.  
Banor nodded even though he knew she wouldn't see, but would rather feel his ascent. They stepped into the entrance and waited momentarily as their vision shifted into the infrared spectrum. What was revealed was along shaft that looked to travel into the belly of this mountainous region. Furthermore the markings on the floor confirmed their long fears. This army of undead had a dwelling, and more that likely a master.  
"Are you thinking what I am thinking?" Sasha whispered into the darkness.  
"Let's not rush to conclusions." The ranger replied, although deep down he feared this could lead to something much more sinister than he had ever dreamed. With reluctance in his stride he moved forward into the abyss.  
Sasha continued to press forward into the darkness, her strides becoming more and more purposeful as she followed the markings on the floor. When the tunnel split she didn't even pause, she turned right and followed the trail on. They progressed through the catacomb of twists and turns and the ranger watched as the rough hewn walls become more precise till he was startled to see the intricate designs in the stone. He signaled for a halt and investigated the markings.  
"Dwarven?" Sasha asked.  
"No, they are too old. This is older than our age. I heard rumors of sites like these but I had thought they were merely swashbuckler's tales." The ranger said as he frowned.  
Sasha put her hand on the wall to feel the runes, carvings, markings whatever they were called. She was surprised to feel the vibrations in the stone, like a heartbeat only slower, more like a resonance.  
"Do you feel this?" she asked and guided him to touch the surface.  
Banor laid his hand on the stone palm first. When he felt nothing, he leaned in and listened intently. "I feel and hear nothing, but you are obviously more attuned to whatever this magic is than I", he said as he pushed away form the wall.  
"I used to love exploring the furthest reaches of Neriak's domain. I would be gone for days on end, exploring every nook and cranny. I loved the florescent glows of the fungi, the melodic drip of water as the rock slowly gave way to the eons of subtle chiseling. But this, this I have never experienced."  
Banor looked deeply into her eyes, he could see the worry. It was not fear, but rather a sense that one had come upon something that defied reason expanding your boundaries, and on occasion brought you face to face with death.  
They looked at each other, and knew the answer to that eternal question. Do you return to the safe, known, and ultimately mundane existence, or charge through that wall of anxiety and experience something new, something different, and hopefully something liberating. Gritting out a smile, they turned back to the task at hand.  
They conferred with one another as they progressed through the labyrinth of turns trying to ascertain since they had not seen any human or otherwise corporeal signs of passage, had these undead stumbled upon this retreat and made it their own. Or worse yet, was their some unseen mastermind waiting for their arrival in some rank passage.  
Banor and Sasha forged their way into the heart of the catacombs. Seeking answers of where did the undead come from, and was there some evil force driving them, and ultimately who were they in comparison. It was a question both had determined was worth any sacrifice to find out. To be ostracized by their peoples, the excommunication from their communities, to risk life and limb for people who care little if not none for them; these were the ramifications of their decisions. But they were known in full before they were made, which validates their very existence. With all this in mind they marched into the depths.  
Banor stopped and looked at the wall again. Sasha turned around to stair intently at him. His fingers lightly trailed the edges of the symbols. There intricate geometrical shapes more mathematical looking than anything else to Sasha. But she was not one for languages, she barely spoke common and had it not been for the slaves they had in Neriak she doubts she would not have spoken it either.  
"What is it that you see?" she asked quietly in the dark.  
"There are patterns here in the wall, and they are repeating."  
"Repeating?" she asked and raised an eyebrow mocking him. Alls she could see was endless scribbles and no method to the madness at all. She watched as he ran his fingers along the wall mumbling to from time to time.  
"Ok here" he exclaimed quietly. Sasha stood from the ground, pushing herself up from the wall until she stood. It had been at least a half hour since they had stopped. She had motioned for them to continue once before, but he had seemed to believe this was more important than continuing on the trail.  
"What have you found?" she asked again. Banor began to run his finger along the edge for some symbols. The shape he created was a square; he then moved several feet down and his fingers along the edge of another square. It wasn't till he completed the circuit did she realize the squares were identical. Inside the square at least a couple hundred symbols resided.  
"I see they are identical, that is a keen eye you have", she winked at him. He smirked back and then walked an equal distance away and outlined the same block of symbols again.  
"It repeats every 6 feet, each segment a foot long and a foot wide."  
"What are the ones in between?" she asked furrowing her brow in consternation.  
"They are what keep us from our destination." He replied.  
Sasha looked at the symbols more intently, trying to decipher their meaning. She new they were a map instinctively, yet with no legend to interpret the symbols it was impossible to tell its meaning. She walked the length of the segments, watching them repeat. From the corner of her eye she caught the strange symbol that resembled a spiral within a spiral. She traced its edge and then moved to the farthest edge of the next segment.  
"I am stumped" Banor begin, not looking at Sasha. She shushed him emphatically, lest the burgeoning idea vacate.  
"This point here" she motioned to the swirling configuration.  
"I see it's on opposite edges at all times.'  
They followed it along the way of the map, and saw how it repeated back on itself like a great wurm eating its tail. The implications were disturbing. If they had interpreted this correctly, they were on a never ending trail through this catacomb.  
"I don't understand" she mumbled as it sunk into her mind. "When did this start?"  
Banor looked at the map then went to its farthest end before it repeated. He found a symbol that looked like an implosion. He scanned the segments and only found it in one other spot, the opposite end.  
"I think when we entered it transported us to the farthest end." He said glumly.  
They sat in the silence, uncertain of how to escape let alone vanquish an enemy. Both knew it would be best to stay put and think rather than continue to blink from known point to unknown point in the maze. When sleep came they welcomed it. It had been an exhausting day. Starting with such a high, but ending in such a low. They knew they were trapped, and were uncertain as how to even begin to escape. They knew so little, they couldn't even formulate a plan of escape. Yes sleep, sleep is a good thing.  
The mist of sleep enveloped Sasha, she struggled against it and the memories it was stirring. Sasha blinked as the morning sun rose on the dark elf outpost. This is the first bastion of the dark elf nation on the continent. Commanded by the Indigo Brotherhood to fortify and prepare for the eminent attack on the high elf town of Firiona Vie.  
  
Overthere There  
  
Sasha knew that it wouldn't be too much longer before her orders would come. She had heard the rumors of the great white dragon Gorenaire, and how it has so far prevented the dark elves from traversing the great expanse of the dread lands. It was like it could smell them from a furlong away. It had decimated two previous attempts at getting across the wasteland. The last of which had sealed its fate. They would suffer no more deaths at the claws of veeshan's servant.  
Sasha sat idly in the pub drinking ale. She watched as the denizens of the outpost went about their business. It always amazed her she thought as she watched from the window as slaves pulled carts of various wares.  
"We have the greatest civilization in Norrath and yet look how we treat others and ourselves." She wondered aloud.  
"You question too much", D'Aron said from the bar. He picked up his beer and came to sit down at her table.  
"I question what I see, but never too much", she answered back and scoffed at him for presuming he could sit with her.  
He looked at her more sternly. They had spent the last 15 years together in the same troop. 15 years of rebellion he had quelled from her. He wondered how many times had he saved her life in battle, and from intrigue. He probably had not saved as many as she had in battle for him, but that was neither here nor there. She had always been best of students and the Indigo Brotherhoods School for Shadow Knights. It was a hard discipline to master, the balance of warrior's rage, and the necromancer's command of the undead. It was a union when rightfully mastered garnished great rewards in their society. But he long knew her battle she raged with their society, even as she mastered the arts of the blade and magic she raged against the confines of their religious order.  
The god Innorruk no doubt tolerated her blasphemy because of the toll her skills. No one knew the count of dead she had sent to the lord of chaos, no doubt he did and that is why he continues to imbue her with his magic's. D'Aron drank deeply from his flagon before responding.  
"You will get yourself and others killed believing the way you do Sasha, namely me" he said in a half truth while laughing.  
It was true she made a lot of people nervous around her, she openly defied the hierarchy. But her battle prowess had saved her time and time again. If not for her successful campaigns in Nagafen, East Commons and Befallen long ago she would have been sacrificed to Lord Innoruuk. But he continued to bless her with victories and according to their laws she can't be hurt till he excommunicates her.  
"You bore me brother, what news have you heard" Sasha said and flashed her incisors. It was their private joke to move on, that subject was dead. He obliged as best he could.  
"We'll get orders tonight, more than a score of us will leave" he said hushed, lest other inhabitants of the bar heard. Granted there was music and revelry going on and the din was rather loud but it was best not to let on that one had this type of information readily.  
"So few?" she asked obviously pained. "The sent out the same last time and they were obliterated I heard"  
"Same yes, but different tactics"  
"That is a mistake, from what I hear of Gorenaire's magic's we will need numbers to do enough damage in a timely manner"  
"That may well be true but you cannot move an entire garrison through the dread lands without great expense."  
"What of the expense of our lives my friend, I care not to die on some wind blown tundra land"  
He eyed her significantly, she was not one to joke or idly banter about tactics and this concern of hers concerned him even more. She had always been confident of her own survival, even as kids when they would play in nektulos forest she would blithely go on her way while saying to the others "you might not want to come to far my father says it's dangerous".  
D'Aron laughed at himself; he would follow her anywhere always had, and always will. He knew he loved her, but he had never gotten the nerve to tell her so. He knew her answer, before he even thought of asking. Her father had brought her up to be self sufficient, taught her the ways of the warrior. D'Aron knew she would never count on anyone for support because that would mean you acknowledge a weakness. Weakness was not the way of a warrior. She would never let anyone be close to her.  
He had acknowledged this long ago, but it enough for him just to be in close proximity to her. He would love her this way, and if she lived long enough, and didn't displease their god they would retire one day. And on that day, he would tell her. But until that day he would carry his sword in battle, proud to be by her side. And do his best to protect her from herself. He smiled back at her, a tense smile; a smile she recognized.  
Just then a courier came into the bar, one could tell immediately his business. His beeline route to various troopers from the start outlined his course of action. All troopers stood and made their way to him. The news traveled before most had opened their correspondence. They were heading out tomorrow morning.  
Sasha stayed as the others went up to get their orders. She neither wanted nor desired to see any more war. Mostly that is what sat in her craw most of her days. She drank another hearty swallow of her ale and looked around. Most of these boys who anxiously tore open their orders were still slack jawed to see their name in writing. They thought this was their chance to distinguish themselves or worse yet to redeem them. They had seen little if no real combat and certainly didn't understand the true nature of the beast that is battle.  
They envision like so many of the novella depict that each member of the troop will do something brave that will save the entire company. Or of they do die that it will be some glorious deathblow that will forever write them in the annals of history. What they don't know, don't want to hear, and certainly never want to see but all too often do is the harsh reality. But they will eventually, and then they will become jaded like so many before them.  
Sasha scoffed at herself and drained the rest of her mug. She looked into D'Aron eyes, a man whom she had known as a boy. Like so many others around her, they had all grown up together. And yet most had become the cruel epitome of the world they rallied against as youngsters. What had happened, when had it so horribly gone wrong, she asked herself silently.  
"I no longer believe brother" she said flatly as she arose to leave. She knew that it would hurt his feelings for her to call him brother. She had long known he harbored feelings for her, but had kept his silence. He certainly didn't follow her like a pet, for she would surely have sent him away. Rather he has silently kept vigil over her safety in more ways than one.  
D'Aron watched as she left the bar. He hated when she called him brother. He knew she meant brothers in arms, but it didn't console him very much at all. He rose too knowing like she that it would be best to get a good nights sleep rather than drink more like these dolts. Their merriment making now would spew on the long road and they would regret every mouthful of ale three times over.  
The next morning the outpost was a flurry of activity. People rand from building to building running last minute errands, and supplies were steadily being piled up in the center by the market place awaiting the soldiers exit. Sentries stood guard and various elements of the march assembled. The crisp morning air left trails as men barked orders into the predawn morn.  
When they marched out of the outpost that morning they counted 40 people strong. The tracker walked in the front, ready to mark the passage of the great dragon Gorenaire. His reputation had preceded him, highly vaunted as the best tracker in the dark elf nation. It seems the upper echelon was sparing no expense in tracking the beast. Sasha however was not convinced of their sincerity to actually slay the behemoth.  
It came down to resources in the end and she knew it. The dark elves had enough resources currently in their arsenal to sail to Firiona Vie and create a wasteland of that town. The high elves had established it before the outpost, and now it was a somewhat reluctant race to control the continent. She was not convinced however that their leaders wanted to be in this race, and thus less certain this expedition was meant to be successful. So it was with a heavy heart she followed the tracker through the dread lands seeking sightings of the white dragon scaled monster known as Gorenaire.  
It was a ten night later when the tracker Timak D'Marr called the troupe to a halt and knelt down in the snow observing something excitedly. The word came back through the lines of troops like a wave of excitement. The word was out, dragon sign had been found. They turned north and angled into a valley, the snow crunching beneath their excited steps.  
  
Dragon Slayers  
  
D'Aron scanned the horizon and leaned in to quietly say, "We're going into the valley. They say it's a pass into Gorenaire's lair."  
Sasha only smiled back in return, the bitter wind whipping at their faces as they scaled the low lying hills.  
The troop stopped again, and the tracker spoke excitedly with the head of the troop Magnast. Their voices carried on the wind and Sasha made out some of what they were saying.  
"The dragon is close; she passed through her less than five nights ago." Tinmak the tracker exclaimed.  
Magnast looked at him and at the tracks and excrement on the frozen tundra. He scanned the horizon looking at the pass. The side walls would soon become too high to pass requiring them to traverse the entire pass, a dangerous prospect if they are ambushed by the drolvarg or worse the drachnids. He thought long and hard before making his decision. His superior had been explicit, find Gorenaire and kill her at all costs. Ultimately the decision was not his to make, it had been made long ago and by more influential people than he or his family.  
Magnast turned and motioned for them to follow. He led the way into the valley, hoping against all hope that the dragon had already passed, and that no other enemy had laid a trap for them since its passing.  
Gorenaire opened her eyes and watched silently as the troupe of dark elves made their way deeper into her valley. It had taken a couple weeks to maneuver them into position. Now that they passed her they were unwittingly marching to their deaths.  
She rose from her concealment, shaking the caked snow from her body in one smooth movement. The sound of the falling snow echoed in the valley. D'Aron turned at the sound of the avalanche. Men and woman called out in alarm as they saw the behemoth body of Gorenaire step through the powdered mist.  
Madgast called out flanking maneuvers but Gorenaire's girth blocked any such premise. She glared down threateningly as the puny dark elves scrambled. She drew her head back and exhaled a cold frost. The freezing cloud sapped the strength of those on the outskirts while those in the center crumbled to their icy deaths. Sasha charged into the foray, realizing their only chance at survival was swift and immediate death of Gorenaire.  
Men flung to the wayside as Gorenaire trampled them, shaking her great body from side to side flinging dark elves way into the sky only to be crunched critically between her jaws as she caught them mid-flight.  
Magnast watched in abject horror as the white dragon slew his troopers with ease. More than half his force lay strewn about the battlefield, expired in the first moments of battle. He called out mightily to his fellow troopers to attack, and ran headlong into the dragons path.  
Sasha side stepped the beasts trampling foot and raised her sword up high and stabbed at the soft underbelly of the beast. Gorenaire let out a gargantuan howl, and then slammed her body down onto the ground burying beneath her great weight any that were under her.  
D'Aron watched in horror as Sasha fell beneath the beast, many bodies remained pinned to the beasts hide. He scanned vainly trying to discern if any were hers. His feet pumped beneath him, moving him execrably toward the dragon, his rage welling from his stomach to his chest to a scream of outrage as he hacked at the beast.  
He found himself directly in the path of the ivory beast. He saw its eyes flare as it watched him approach. It exhaled as he approached and he knew he was past the point of no return.  
Sasha blinked into consciousness. Each breath a stabbing pain in her side, her body wasn't responding to orders of movement. She swallowed repeatedly trying to produce moisture but the thick copper paste in her mouth made her gag instead. She could smell the decay about her, her unwilling eyes shielding her from the harsh reality her mind knew existed beyond her pitch black womb.  
A searing pain shot through her stomach, enough to compel her body into motion. She looked in horror realizing the utter futility of it all.  
"I should have done more", she said. Barely audible her words fell on the deaf ears of the dead.  
"I am a waste, our civilization is a waste". Sasha coughed and spewed forth brilliant red.  
"No my child" came from the voice in the distance.  
Sasha mind reared in alarm her body unwilling, and unable to respond in kind. She blinked a couple times the figure slowly coming into focus what at first seemed like a great cat looking down at her became a beautiful woman.  
"I have chosen you little one, sleep and all will be made apparent in due time."  
Banor watched Sasha as her eyes darted back and forth. He had woken with a start awhile ago and had been unable to fall back asleep. He gently brushed her ivory hair from her face, holding her tighter to provide comfort and support. He mused to himself his ability now to give back. For so many years he had been dead inside, since the loss of his father. For too long he had put one foot in front of the other, constantly moving.  
He did not want to shut out the world around him. His home town friends and family had availed him, but his inability to connect forced him on his path. At times he had wondered if Tunare had truly chosen him, or if he had chosen her because no one else would take him.  
Banor looked down on Sasha and smiled. Her continence was an angelic visage. His attraction to this woman had confounded him. His indecision or rather vacillating desires had challenged his conventional provisions of society.  
He knew once he had started down this road though he would never return home, not that it had been a goal. Now that he thought about it he knew how inconsequential it was to him. He had left long ago, never looking back. Banor's eyelids drooped as he pondered his childhood and the events that lead up to his self imposed exile.  
  
Deep Roots  
As he drifted in and out of sleep Banor reminisced about his past. His early childhood had started so serenely. His father was a well respected blacksmith, and his mother dutiful in her support of him. But the quaintness of Kelethin never grabbed a hold of him.  
When traveling to the high elf strong hold he never longed to be back climbing in the limbs of home. In fact the word home had never sat well on his lips when describing Kelethin. His father often looked at him, summing him up. Banor knew that he did not measure up to his fathers expectations of a son. But there was nothing he could do about that other than try harder.  
As Banor's reverie continued he realized there was never a single point, an event which summed up his inadequacies. Simply put, he knew he did not belong and so did his parents. Yet as the years past no one ventured forward. Banor stared into the velvet carpet of night. The moonlight illuminated the semicircle of sameness of homes built into the great limbs of Kelethin. Its deep roots had held this city up ages and would continue to do so long after Banor was gone.  
In that respect he honored his city, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that this great city would never crumble. It would grow and grown, ever reaching skyward, and maybe that allusion is what bother Banor the most.  
He felt the people had forgotten their roots. Those deep roots when they had first come here. It was not the trees that provided them comfort and support, but the land. The fruits, and berries, the honeysuckle and the dewberries, those are the lifeblood of Kelethin not this great stand of trees. The indomitable spirit of the rangers that had carved out this life style should be the revered amongst their kind.  
But in the end it wasn't for him to decide and as a youth his views were inconsequential. He knew this too to be a fact, and understood that his father's oft sorry eyed looks at him were his disappointment coming through. When the day came it was neither; expected, heralded, nor harbingered as a day of liberation. It started like any other day and ended like no other.  
Banor arrived late to the furnace. The fire he was supposed to build before his father arrives already burning hot. He had promised yesterday never to be late again, and here he stood alone in the workshop. He waited patiently, roaming the shop looking at various pieces his father was working on. Each laden with intricate patterns, built into sturdy craftsmanship.  
An hour passed and his father had not returned. Banor turned the damper on high to allow the fire to burn itself out before heading outside. Down the latticed walk ways, onto the lift and into the wild wonders of the surrounding area Banor bound happily. He spent hours running around stalking prey, getting close enough to touch a deer. Avoiding orcs was a matter of pride, and taunting the bixies and running away to loose them in the deep forest was a past time of endless joy.  
The night was fast approaching and with dread Banor began his long trek back to Kelethin. It wasn't long before he heard many people calling his name out into the twilight. He called back to them not knowing what would prompt such a search. A man came through the thick brush, his countenance a look of extreme concern.  
"Are you Banor, Treha's son?" he asked quickly.  
Banor replied affirmatively and looked quizzically back at the man.  
"You don't know me, but I am a friend of the family; J'har Telk." He said and extended his hand offering an introduction. Banor shook his hand, introducing himself in turn, and ask what his was all about.  
J'har looked at Banor, and Banor could feel that once again he was being summed up. J'har shook his head negatively, "I don't know young man, and your mother asked me to retrieve you from the forest. We must go back now."  
Banor could tell from the tone in his voice there was no brooking with him and began to walk back. As he traveled Banor began to realize something terrible had happened. Something had happened and it was bad enough that his mother could not wait for his return. His mother had sent for him, not his father. His father had not shown up for work and he had gone out to play. His father was injured, or dead.  
The walk back became a run, and Banor ripped into Kelethin like a whirlwind. When he finally arrived at his parent's home he saw the collection of people inside before he opened the door. Tears welled up on his cheeks.  
"Where is dad?" he blurted out when he entered. His mother's face red and won, tired from endless hours of crying. Her eyes were puffy and Banor barely recognized her.  
His mother took only a moment before responding, "I sent for you because I wanted you to hear this from my lips, your father, and my husband has passed away."  
The rest was a blur; he could hear words, and see people come up to him and felt them pat him on the shoulder. But he was dead on the inside, and the world continued to move without his notice.  
It was hours before he again regained cognoscente thought. He found himself deep in the forest. The sounds of the wild life had soothed his pain enough for him to fall asleep in the nook of a tree. And so his exodus from Kelethin had come to pass, without much ado, and without a farewell. It still hurts Banor thought as he looked at Sasha, no matter how much he tried to avoid it. It sill hurts.  
  
Rising Death  
When they woke, both looked at each other with pained faces. Stretching and preening trying to remove the kinks from their sore muscles. Sasha stretched while still remaining seated. Her arms extended above her like a steeple of a temple. Banor smiled as she moaned out loud, her body shivering as her muscles convulsed. He offered her water from their flask and she shook her head declining. Raising it above his head he doused his head and rubbed the water in rinsing his hair as well as possible.  
Sasha reached over and relieved him of the flagon doing the same. Banor smiled mischievously watching the water trickle down the back of her nape. His hand wrapped around her, pulling her close and nibbled on her ear. She leaned back into him, letting him hold her in his arms. She smiled knowing that she had been chosen, and gasped in remembrance.  
"I remember what happened now", she said as she turned around and faced her lover.  
"Thank Tunare!" Banor exclaimed. "I thought something was wrong" he said and smiled.  
Sasha pulled him back to her sliding one leg between his, "Nothing will ever be wrong with you at my side lover" she whispered into his ear.  
Sasha began to pack, telling Banor the details of her dream. How she had come to be a shadow knight no longer, but one of Tunare's chosen. The love in her voice told Banor all he would ever need to know about her. Tunare had blessed her and him in one swoop. He finally had a connection, someone who inspired him. The best part of his new life was that she felt the same about him.  
He listened intently as she related the details of her dream. How Tunare had first come to her as the tiger. His jaw dropped as was amazed at how close he had been to his god. She had stood, played and ultimately guarded over them. He felt exhilarated to have had that interaction.  
They packed up there sleeping supplies and returned the wall. Sasha had looked at the repeating symbols again briefly and frowned. She took out the supplies for making a meal and watched as Banor approached the wall staring at each symbol and mumbling.  
What he believed had happened was when they had entered they had been transported to the far end of the catacombs. He returned to the two vortex icons he had identified the night before. He traced his fingers along the stone edges of the tile.  
Sasha began looking for something to start a fire with, but was suddenly struck by the lack of materials. There was nothing what so ever to burn, no cob webs, no dried husks, nothing at all. The realization hit Sasha like a raging werewolf, the catacomb was clean. Worse than clean even it was spotless, there was no death. There was nothing lying about, spiders, bugs, and no detritus of any kind.  
Banor turned around and exclaimed, "I've got it!' He turned back around and traced along the edges. "Ok we entered there" he said motioning at the end of the tablets.  
Sasha followed along with him, nervously looking about reading in more and more disturbing details. What little dust there was in the pores of the rocks was gray, fresh like the dust settling on your house hold furniture.  
"And then we were teleported to here" he said and laid his finger at the farthest point from the entrance.  
  
Sasha looked at the edges, "Where are we in this maze?" She asked, momentarily forgetting her suspicions.  
"Excellent question" Banor moved approximately half way through the maze and touched the tablet he believed their location represented. A sound from behind the wall clunked, and they both jumped back. The tabled recessed into the wall and water began to pore out.  
Sasha looked at Banor, "Oh yeah I was waiting to tell you I think the catacombs might be an elaborate trap."  
Banor frowned and looked at the water as it poured out of the square hole. He smirked at Sasha.  
"Well it's not like we'll die anytime soon" he said think with sarcasm. As if on cue though several tumblers clunked and other tablets receded letting in more water.  
"There is no dust or anything on the floor" Sasha exclaimed as she began to gather up their supplies. A thin layer of water had already coated the floor.  
"We have got to get to the end of this maze before it's too late" Banor said tersely grabbing his packs and hefting them on his shoulder. He smiled at Sasha as she straightened up under the weight of her pack. He leaned in and kissed her on the lips.  
"You ready?" she asked.  
"Oh I am good to go" he quipped back and Sasha blushed.  
As they began to run down the hall their feet splattered in the water. More than an inch of water lay on the ground already.  
Clunk, cha-clunk could be heard as they ran faster and faster. Soon they were sloshing along with the water up to their shins. The smack smacking of their feet landing once on the horizon of the water and again on the floor reminded Banor of watching Sasha and Tunare so long ago it seemed. He smiled as he ran along, looking from time to time as the symbols on the wall whisked by.  
Clunk, cha-clunk, by the time they were getting close to the exit the water had risen to their waists.  
Banor waded in front of Sasha, taking the lead as they returned to the entrance. The floor began to ascend as they got closer to the entrance. He could feel the heat of the afternoon sun but could not yet see its light. The water steadily got shallower until finally it was back down to their ankles. They raced along, slogging it out breathlessly anticipating the sunlight.  
Banor pointed as he drew closer, "Jump over this one coming up." They leapt over it with ease.  
Clunk, cha-clunk, water began to poor out of the walls as symbols receded. Then suddenly the entrance began to close. Two great stones began pushing inextricably together from opposite sides of the walls. Sasha and Banor called out simultaneously, rushing faster.  
Sasha could see beyond Banor. She could see there was not enough time. As they reached the entrance she slammed into Banor pushing him through the entrance sending him flying forward. He barely passed the threshold as the massive stones slid together sealing her in the catacomb.  
Banor screamed in abject terror. Sasha could hear him through the wall, she called out to him.  
  
Clunk, cha-clunk, water began falling from the ceiling and the walls.  
  
Sasha watched as the water spewed from the ceiling from small holes. The roar of it all had quickly drowned out her and Banor's fevered speech. She slouched and leaned against the wall, the water already up to her knees. Looking in vain at the walls for some clue on how to make the water retract Sasha began to cry.  
  
Last breath, first step  
Sasha's shoulders heaved up and down as she cried. She wasn't crying because she was about to die. She cried because her friends, family and everyone she had known was dead. They had been the only family she had, and they had been taken from her as soundly and emphatically as she had pushed Banor through the doorway.  
Sasha had made that choice willingly. She had decided it was best for Banor to live rather than they die together. She had been robbed of the last thing that had brought her life meaning. But it had been her choice, not someone else's. Not a decision dictated to her like so many others in the past. No the choice had been of her own volition.  
Sasha watched as the water filled up the corridor. Her feet no longer touched the ground. They tapped the floor from time to time reminding her that she was floating ever so inextricably to the ceiling. She could no longer hear Banor outside, and from time to time when he head would drop below the horizon of the water she could hear the rush of water as the catacombs sealed her fate.  
She breathed more calmly, acknowledging that she had at least had a chance. It had been a chance more than most. She had gotten a second opportunity to denounce the despicable lord of hate, renouncing her birthright to being engulfed in hate. Yes, a chance to embrace love had been given to her. She had run to it like a child to its mother. This was not the reward, no and neither was she resentful. Her reward had been the emotions, the love she had experienced with Banor and with Tunare herself. Those two loves, one of intimacy and one of friendship had made whatever time she had available to her worthwhile.  
Sasha gulped for air, as her head banged against the ceiling. She had nowhere else to go and soon there would be no more room. She watched as the water continued to poor from the holes exposed in the ceiling and wondered how Banor was doing. She prayed at that moment while the water filled.  
  
Dear Tunare thank you for how you have touched me and saved me. Thank you for all the opportunities you have given me in this life in service to you. I feel I have not done enough in your name for the gift of love you have given me. I know I leave behind my lover, and I pray that you keep him safe and happy as I leave this world. In the back of my mind I know that I am praying for you to come save me, and if that is your will then so be it. But I will not curse out in misunderstanding, because you have done too much for me. Thank you Tunare, I love you.  
  
Sasha gasped another time as the water filled in her ears, the rumble of the water under her was deafening. She watched as the water sputtered from the hole above her and a caterpillar spurted out landing on the water and remained afloat. It stared at her, a parting gift from Tunare. It's green slinky body, undulating closer to her. Its tiny legs worked furiously in the water propelling it forward, ever forward. It did not seem to worry about its surroundings. Maybe it had no inclination of the danger it was in, but it made Sasha smile. She gasped one last breath.  
  
Banor raged against the immovable stone.  
  
The stars blinked, the moon glowed. Gods waged war, servants died and good people died senseless deaths. The world of Norrath moved on while Banor raged against the immovable stone.  
  
Two days passed.  
  
Banor lay in front of the stone entrance. The crevice had not parted, had not allowed him to go back in and reunite with Sasha. He refused to give up hope. Tunare had taught him a valuable lesson in the time since he had met Sasha.  
Tunare had a plan, she had a design and it included him and her. He knew this more than he knew anything else. She had truly chosen them both for something special, to be emissaries of Tunare, her chosen. He looked up into the night sky yearning for answers.  
Banor woke the next morning from having a caterpillar drop on him from a tree above. It bounced off of him and rolled down to the ground. Banor marveled as it began to trudge along despite having just fallen a great distance. Looking out at the world Tunare had made green and full of life Banor truly took his first step as one of Tunare's chosen. 


End file.
